


Empty Bottles

by RoseIsRelatable



Series: The Key [2]
Category: ONEWE (Band)
Genre: Drinking, Drunken Confessions, Gen, Oneshot, Rose's WeUs universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:28:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24836140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseIsRelatable/pseuds/RoseIsRelatable
Summary: Dongmyeong has disappeared, failing to say a word to his bandmates. Hyungu finds him drinking alone in a pojangmacha. For the sake of Dongmyeong's mental health, he needs to stop bottling up his secret love for Giwook.
Series: The Key [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664293
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	Empty Bottles

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place before The Key To My Heart.

At 19 international years, Dongmyeong was easily the youngest person in the pojangmacha. At night they were mainly frequented by ajussis. The little tent bar was occupied by three middle-aged men, a grandpa, and the teen. The owner of the place hadn’t questioned him too much, just asked when he was born and if he had cash. The other patrons barely spared a glance at the boy who sat down at a table to drink by himself.

He’d acquired a taste for soju, though it still wasn’t his favorite. Too acrid. Too much burning, and not in a pleasant way like gochujang. Still, after a couple of shots, he couldn’t even taste it anymore. 

Dongmyeong slumped in his chair, resting his heavy head in his palm, propped up by his elbow on the table. He had dwelled for such a very long time. He was close to the seven-year mark now. Seven years since that day  _ he  _ turned around and grinned at Dongmyeong. That fateful smile that melted Dongmyeong’s heart and ruined him for other boys. What’s-his-face, the high school soccer player, wasn’t enough to sate Dongmyeong’s hungry soul. Neither was Yeo Hwanwoong. And Baek Jinseo, well, he was just a mistake. Dongmyeong turned his hand over, half expecting the bruises to still be there on his wrist. But no, he’d removed Jinseo from his life months before. Although, when he thought about it hard enough, he could still feel the older man’s body pressing him into the mattress.

He poured the last shot from the bottle before him and downed it before calling for another. A green glass bottle, full of the strong vodka-like liquid, thunked down on the table, its cap already popped. Dongmyeong’s face was going numb. His vision was growing fuzzy, just softening at the edges, like a photo filter. He took another shot and sighed heavily. Of all the boys in Korea, why did it have to be that one?

A head of unnaturally blond hair ducked below the canopy of the pojangmacha. A pair of expressive brown eyes scanned the faces at the tables, stopping on Dongmyeong. There was a sigh of relief from Hyungu as he approached Dongmyeong, reaching him in three swift strides. “You didn’t tell us where you were going!” Hyungu scolded, taking the seat opposite his keyboardist. “What are you doing?”

“Drowning,” Dongmyeong mumbled as he filled his shot glass again. 

“Why are you drowning? You’re barely an adult.” Hyungu leaned in, tipping his head to look at Dongmyeong’s face. “Talk to me. I’m your hyung. You know you can do that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dongmyeong whispered. He lifted the shot glass to his lips, cringing at the flavor again. “I shouldn’t… drown. Plenty of boys in the locker room, right?”

“Uh, fish in the sea, Dongmyeong-ah?” Hyungu questioned. “How much have you had?”

“S’my second bottle.” Dongmyeong sniffled and reached for the bottle again. Hyungu pulled it out of his reach. “It’s  _ my  _ second bottle.  _ I  _ paid for it.  _ I’m  _ drinking it. I will drink until I can’t feel.”

“Why do you want to do that?” Hyungu was trying not to get frustrated with the younger boy. After all, he wasn’t much older. He knew what it was like to wish he couldn’t feel.

“Because being in love is bad for me, hyung.” Dongmyeong pouted. “Sometimes I just want to go home for good, get a normal job, and try to forget him.”

Hyungu gestured for a glass of his own, received it, and poured himself a shot from Dongmyeong’s bottle. “Why don’t you?”

“I can’t abandon the band,” Dongmyeong said. “I can’t forget my best friend, no matter how much I hurt because of him.”

“Oh, you’re talking about Giwook-ah.” Hyungu’s face lit up with recognition and understanding. He drank his shot, scrunching his nose at the strength of the alcohol. “So, how long have you been in love?”

“Since middle school.” Alcohol was like truth serum to Dongmyeong. He couldn’t hide anything when he was drinking. “Hyung, I knew I was gay. I probably knew I was gay before I knew what it was. But, hell, I didn’t expect to get knocked on my ass like that. By a smile. Just one. God, he looked so handsome. He  _ looks _ so handsome. Just all the time, hyung. I’m desperate. I’ll do anything to get over this stupid crush. I think it might be impossible. Can I sell my soul?”

“Nah, I don’t want it,” Hyungu cracked.

“Hyung, why can’t I just have what I want?” Dongmyeong’s head dipped lower, and so did his pout. “I just want Giwook-ah.”

“Have you told him?” level-headed Hyungu asked. Dongmyeong, whose brain was swimming in a pool of soju and street food smells, shook his head. “Then how do you know you can’t have him?”

“He’s not gay,” Dongmyeong began. “ _ I’m  _ gay. I  _ know  _ when someone is gay, and Giwook-ah isn’t gay. You know who’s gay? Keonhee-hyung is gay. Like,  _ gay  _ gay.” Hyungu lifted his palms and shushed Dongmyeong. Amusing as it was, he couldn’t have his bandmate babbling a loud list of everyone who was gay. “And sometimes I wonder about my brother,” Dongmyeong continued, ignoring his hyung. “I think he’s covering something, but I’m not sure. You’re not gay.”

“I didn’t say I was gay,” Hyungu whispered, laughing. “We don’t just talk about this kind of thing in public, Dongmyeong-ah.”

“I’m not in public.” Dongmyeong waved his hand around clumsily. “I’m in a pojangmacha.”   


“Shh, that’s public,” Hyungu said. “Everyone can hear you.”

“You’re being such an old fart,” Dongmyeong accused, slurring his words. “Who died and made you Yonghoon-hyung?”

Hyungu snorted and poured himself another shot. “Listen to me,” he demanded. “And if you won’t, I’ll call your mom. I have her number.”

“I know where your grandma lives,” Dongmyeong spat.

“Shut up or I’ll drink all your soju.”

“Do it.” Dongmyeong stared intensely into Hyungu’s eyes. “I’ll get sick if I finish it all anyway.”

“At least you have  _ that much  _ sense,” Hyungu mumbled. “But listen. You never know if you don’t try. There could be a thousand yeses waiting for you if you just ask the questions you need to ask.”

Dongmyeong snatched the bottle back from Hyungu and started drinking it straight. With a few more milliliters in his belly, he set it down on the table, nearly knocking the old empty onto the ground. He burped. “You have to be out of your shit if you think I’m going to open myself up to that kind of rejection.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t feel good.”

Hyungu gently extracted the almost-empty soju bottle from Dongmyeong’s grip. “No more,” he said sternly. “You haven’t learned how to hold it yet.”

“I’ll hold you,” Dongmyeong grumbled.

“That’s fine, sure.” Hyungu drank the last of the soju in the bottle. Dongmyeong waved for another. “No, no!” Hyungu hissed at him. “No more!”

“You deserve your own for putting up with me like this.” Dongmyeong poured a shot for Hyungu when the fresh bottle arrived at the table. “It’s on me. I brought enough cash.”

Hyungu took the shot without further protest. He would try to catch up to Dongmyeong’s level of intoxication. Maybe then the teen would listen to him. Thirty minutes later, Hyungu was beginning to feel hazy. “So, so, Dongmyeong-ah, think of it this way,” he began. “Imagine you’re having dinner and it’s kinda shitty. But there’s this awesome chocolate cake at the end. But you can only have some if you ask for it. Giwook-ah is your cake.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard of,” Dongmyeong whined. “Cake isn’t gay either! It’s cake!”

“I should call Harin-hyung.” Hyungu pulled his phone out of his pocket. “You need to pay for these drinks. I need to get us a sober driver.”

Dongmyeong nodded and waddled to the owner’s table to pay up. He was a thousand won short, but the owner told him not to worry. The tall, skinny man studied Dongmyeong through eyes set in a slightly wrinkled face. “Nobody your age shows up and just drinks alone like that,” he said. “I just hope everything is okay. Get home safely.”

“Yeah,” Dongmyeong said, shaking some of the haze out of his head. “Yeah, my hyung is calling our hyung. He’s a good driver.” The owner nodded, and watched Dongmyeong stumble back to his seat.

“Harin says ten minutes,” Hyungu mumbled. “Remember, tell Giwook-ah you love him or I’ll do it for you.”

“I’ll flick your nuts if you do.”

“Harsh.”

One of the shiny black sedans owned by their company rolled up to the curb. One dark tinted window opened slowly and Harin waved. “Get in, guys,” he said. “Careful. Nobody’s feeling sick?”

“I don’t feel awesome,” Dongmyeong admitted.

“Sit in the front, then.” Harin hit a button and the doors unlocked. “Buckle up. Dongmyeong-ah, you had us worried.”

“I’m okay, hyung,” Dongmyeong insisted. He slid carefully into the passenger’s seat, shut the door, and buckled his seatbelt. The car interior smelled new, like plastic and leather. It did nothing to settle Dongmyeong’s tummy.

“I can see that you’re okay,” Harin said. “You should have told us where you were going. Giwook-ah looked for you around the dorms and at the company for hours. He made me drive him to the gym to see if you were there.” At the mention of his heart’s desire, Dongmyeong began to cry. “No, why?”

“It’s a long story, hyung,” Hyungu said from the backseat. “Can we just go home? I need sleep.”

“Bedtime for drunk boys,” Harin confirmed, shifting into drive. The car rolled smoothly down the street. Dongmyeong found himself drifting off in his seat. 

He couldn’t say when he had fallen asleep on the ride home, but Dongmyeong woke with Hyungu nudging his shoulder from outside the passenger-side door. “I can walk,” he was saying to Harin. “Maybe you should carry this one to bed.” Dongmyeong felt himself being scooped into Harin’s arms and carried inside the building. The three rode the elevator together, and then he was carried into the apartment.

Yonghoon sat on the edge of the sofa, bouncing his knee. He jumped up to his feet as Harin and Hyungu stepped through the door, Dongmyeong resting limply in Harin’s arms. “Jesus,  _ there  _ you are!” Yonghoon exclaimed. “Where were you? Are you okay?”

“Pojangmacha,” Hyungu explained. “No, he’s not.”

Harin gently laid Dongmyeong in his bunk beneath Giwook’s in the maknae line’s shared bedroom. He told the youngest boy to look after his best friend. Giwook didn’t sleep a wink that night.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> \- Rose


End file.
